


Hey, You Like Pirates Too?

by that_one_internet_lover



Series: Kid Pricefield Stories [3]
Category: Life Is Strange (Video Game)
Genre: Childhood Friends, F/F, First Meetings, LGBTQ Themes, Platonic Cuddling, Platonic Female/Female Relationships, Platonic Relationships, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-18
Updated: 2018-09-18
Packaged: 2019-07-13 18:28:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16023512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/that_one_internet_lover/pseuds/that_one_internet_lover
Summary: Maxine Caulfield, newly turned 6-year-old and new kid of Arcadia Bay, Oregon, was N-O-T, not who everyone thought she was. She loved playing pirates, but always sailed alone. That is, until another little girl finds her hiding place...





	1. Before Chloe

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Scapio](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scapio/gifts).



> OKAYYYY, I know I've been neglecting this series. I played Farewell at the end of March, was emotionally wounded for a week, and then moved on with life and had writer's block. (I'm still SO hyped for LIS2 and played Captain Spirit). Then last week, this adorable fanart (https://crangeat.tumblr.com/post/178000118561/mmmmmnervous-been-superr-busy-lately) was shared on Reddit, and a user called skypeio suggested that it be turned into a fan fiction. So Scapio on AO3, this is for you :) That was the instant cure for writer's block and I wrote scene after scene until it became 18 pages long on Google docs and I had to split it into three chapters. I can't get enough of dialogue, and writing the narration and dialogue to fit a six and seven (and a half) year old girl was honestly so fun. It was the closest I've gotten to writing a children's story, but with one adult joke :) Pop culture references: Treasure Island, Spongebob, Nintendo games, and Junie B Jones. I do not own anything.  
> Also, I wrote this fic listening to “Chinatown” by Wild Nothing pretty much the whole time, so I like to imagine this is the vaguely hipster song playing over the scene, if it were in a Life is Strange game :)  
> Anyway, enough rambling, here's chapter 1!

Maxine Caulfield, newly turned six-year-old and new kid of Arcadia Bay, Oregon, was N-O-T, _not_ who everyone thought she was. 

It wasn’t how observant she was that made her different. She couldn’t help that for what she lacked in words, she made up for in staring. Her mother called it “being nosey,” but Maxine called it “looking at and listening to the world without needing to talk.” She couldn’t help that because she didn’t talk, she listened instead. She was a very good listener, and thought she had outstanding (one of the biggest words she knew) ears, even able to hear entire conversations that she wasn’t even a part of! It was practically a superpower! She “noseyed” lots of things: like how her father liked two sugars in his his grown-up coffee, only two. And how her mother had stress migraines sometimes-- but not because of Maxine, of course. And how sometimes she could hear her parents doing a “special kiss” in bed in the dark long after she was supposed to be asleep, and they sounded… really excited. She hoped they were having fun. 

After her mother caught her outside their bedroom that time at midnight, sitting cross-legged on the floor, sneakily sipping an off-limits, not allowed after 8:30 PM apple juice, and smiling her best innocent smile up at them, she didn’t hear them doing… whatever _that_ was anymore. 

Maxine was not who others thought she was. Not because she was actually much more outgoing than people thought-- because she wasn’t. Talking to anyone besides her mother, father, and her kindergarten teacher, Mrs. Clover, was like asking Maxine to jump off the high dive at the pool. She was prone to spontaneous crying spells when she got too stressed, especially at school, which she hated more than anything. A few boys teased her for the “waterworks,” but her teacher shut them down real fast. Maxine even spoke so little it was starting to worry her parents. 

“Are you sure you can’t push her to socialize more?” Her mother asked in a hushed voice to Mrs. Clover one sunny afternoon during the third week of all-day kindergarten. “We can’t even get her to talk about school; she always just says it’s ‘good.’ Are you sure she’s still not being bullied, or even if she’s bored in class? Or if things are going too fast for her?” 

Vanessa Caulfield glanced over at Maxine, who was sitting cross-legged in the corner like always, not speaking, making her pirate toy Beth the Terrible (that she had brought from home) walk across the carpet. She must’ve been voicing her in her head, unlike at home. 

“Maxine doesn’t seem bored at all. In fact, she’s one of my most enthusiastic students, as long as I talk one-on-one with her. Otherwise she never raises her hand. Her hobbies all seem to be very, ah, _solitary_ : reading, drawing, playing with her toys but never letting anyone else touch them--” 

“Oh, she’s very picky about that. She wants everything to be neat and orderly; the boys we set her up on playdates with were quite rowdy--” She began saying defensively, then cleared her throat, embarrassed, and nodded at Mrs. Clover to continue. 

“I assure you, Maxine is just shy, which is perfectly normal for her age. She’ll warm up to another child eventually. Maybe you should set her up on a playdate with a more outgoing girl who could possibly coax Maxine out of her shell. Do you know anyone who shares her interests?” 

Vanessa Caulfield paused. “Well, Maxine adores pirates. She’s loved them ever since she saw the cover of _Treasure Island_ at the library and looked at all the pictures.” 

Mrs. Clover smiled. “Hm. That’s certainly a specific and unique special interest. But there has to be another little girl around Maxine’s age who likes pirates too.” 

But in her corner, Maxine listened with her outstandingly good ears, and shook her head to herself. They were all wrong. 

The thing was, nobody really knew her because she actually wasn’t mild-mannered Maxine Caulfield at all. She was… _Maxine the Pirate!_ Scourge of the high seas! Protector of Feathers, her trusty parakeet companion! And one thing always stayed the same-- no matter what, she sailed alone. No exceptions. 

Maxine the Pirate would never need her teacher’s help to shut down mean bullies. Maxine the Pirate always ate _six_ graham crackers after school, not three, to keep up her strength. Maxine the Pirate even burped at the table and would refuse to clear the dishes (but she guessed a little bit of Maxine Caulfield was still inside, because she felt bad afterward). That’s why Maxine the Pirate wasn’t allowed to eat at the table anymore. No mind. Pirates always ate in the galley with their crew, anyway. 

But… it wouldn’t hurt to _have_ a crew, or even just a captain, guiding the ship and helping with navigation through life’s choppy ocean waters. After all, the world could still be a pretty scary place for Maxine, even if she was already six, not a super mega crybaby three or four or five-year-old, and had turned six before all her classmates. And age six did feel good. It felt like the bravery of enduring a first lost tooth, trying olives for the first time, and being just a little closer to being tall enough to reach the bathroom sink without a stepstool. But the one time all her classmates paid attention to Maxine was when she brought in triple chocolate frosted cupcakes with extra rainbow sprinkles for her birthday. After that, it was back to reading in the corner during snack time, nap time, and playtime and “noseying” at all their conversations. Her classmates sure did talk about boring things. 

Honestly, Maxine would’ve loved to just have someone to play _Kirby 64: The Crystal Shards_ with her. There was one level she always died in, so the game was just stuck, like a DVD that stuttered at one particular part. And she was getting tired of constantly racing against NPCs in _Mario Kart 64_ , and was itching to upgrade to a Gamecube already and get _Super Smash Bros Melee_ when it came out in November, even if it looked super hard. She had wanted _Mario Kart Super Circuit_ on the Gameboy Advance; it had just released that past summer, on July 21, but her parents refused: “A console is enough. Now you want to have a Gameboy to always carry with you? You’ll be needing glasses before second grade at that rate!” 

“Gameboy _Advance_. But I wouldn’t play in the car! I wouldn’t even bring it to school-- or to the store or outside the house! Please, Mom and Dad? Pleasepleasepleasepleeeeeaaaaase??” 

But her parents refused again. Maxine resisted kicking the TV-- she had ended up stubbing her toe and crying for twenty minutes last time-- and held back her frustration. Then she stormed upstairs to draw Maxine the Pirate. She initially drew her ordering her meanie-poo parents to walk the plank, but gasped in horror and scribbled it out with her black marker so she wouldn’t have to look at it again. She crumpled up the sheet as tightly as she could, moving the used tissues and dried up glitter gel pens out of the way in her wastebasket to bury the awful drawing at the very bottom (She never put plastic, aluminum cans, or paper in there, not even the tiniest scraps-- that was only for the recycling bin. That was the rule). 

But it wasn’t just Maxine the Pirate that made her different. In fact, Maxine also actually hated the world’s guts!!! She got so, so, so mad sometimes. She got mad at the girls who giggled with other girls while clutching Barbies, gushing over how handsome the Disney Princes were and ranking each Disney princess from worst to best. She got even more mad at the boys-- not just the ones who bullied her, but all of them. Just watching them talk so easily to each other, rolling around in the grass and discovering weird bugs on the blacktop was enough to make her so angry! It was weird though, because this kind of mad wasn’t the boiling hot red type. Instead, she felt it in her tummy, this… longing. And sometimes, she even watched them and just wanted to cry. 

One time after a terrible, horrible, no-good, very bad playdate, she got so mad, like a hot tea kettle was in her stomach, and this time all the anger bubbled over and poured out of her mouth. 

“Stop setting me up on playdates!!!” Maxine exploded at her mother that Saturday evening after that horrible playdate. The girl was named Janice Prescott, a cousin of the well-dressed, unassuming Nathan Prescott. She had arrived in tight blond ringlets and a poofy white lace dress with stockings and Mary Janes. Upon arriving, she had only wanted to raid Mrs. Caulfield’s makeup, and when Maxine said she wasn’t even allowed inside her parents’ room without them there, she wrinkled her nose at her, but didn’t say anything. She called all of Maxine’s snacks (just fruit and graham crackers and whole milk and water, because ice cream, candy, and chocolate milk were for special occasions and rewards only) and her TV show tastes in just PBS shows “boring,” even though Maxine didn’t have cable and couldn’t watch anything else besides the Channel 6 news. These days it was nothing but the scary day when planes hit the Twin Towers in New York City, so Maxine avoided the news at all times. Janice pestered Maxine about why she only wore too-big, “ugly boys t-shirts,” like all her superhero and pirate shirts, saying it was “weird” that Maxine liked to wear what was comfortable and looked good to her, not what was cute. Then, when Maxine convinced her mom that the playdate was a special enough occasion to get out the chocolate milk, Maxine got all clumsy again and spilled the entire glass on Janice’s dress. Janice had howled and howled about getting her brand new expensive dress “ruined” before screeching that Maxine was “a big dumbo elephant who dresses weird and never talks and likes boring stuff!” Then Maxine burst into tears, and her parents called Mrs. Prescott and politely said they would be driving Janice home now. 

“I don’t need your help! I know I’m too weird and boring to be anyone’s friend! Okay?! So stop! I just wanna get a Gameboy Advaaaaance!” Maxine screamed afterward at her mother, which quickly turned into a wail before it tapered off into a strangled squeak, her eyes squeezed shut. Then Maxine slowly sank to the floor, hugging her knees. A moment later she was crumpled up on the floor, sobbing. She pressed her hands over her ears, already bracing herself for her mother’s sharp scolding. Or worse, yelling. 

But then her parents did something that shocked her: they got right down on the floor with her! Even with Vanessa’s old aching knees! Her mother scooped her up into a big bear hug onto her lap, followed by her father, who picked her up and let Maxine sob into his warm, broad chest. For how mean her parents could be sometimes, they could be so, so nice too. 

Maxine cried and cried until she was red in the face and was just hiccuping into her father’s shoulder. Then they all cuddled on the couch together, her mother stroking her hair, which was perpetually messy and tangled unless it was pulled into a tight ponytail with a pirate flag hair clip and bright yellow headband. Her mother held her little daughter’s face in her hands. 

“I’m sorry for yelling. I know it’s against the rules,” Maxine whimpered, and her mother hushed her. 

“Maxine, sweetheart, listen to us. You have always been our beautiful ray of sunshine. You are amazing, just the way you are. You are not ugly or boring and anyone would be so lucky to have you for a friend. You just have to keep trying.” 

“But am I weird?” Maxine sniffled miserably. 

“Only if you want to be,” Vanessa whispered with a gentle smile. “Honestly, Maxine, normal is boring. Normal is so boring! If you were ‘normal,’ Maxine the Pirate wouldn’t exist!” 

“Really?” Maxine asked, brightening a little. 

“Really,” her father, Ryan, said. He leaned down and kissed Maxine on the nose, which she loved because his beard tickled her chin. She giggled. 

“Aww, there we go. There’s our happy little pirate,” Ryan cooed, then tickled Maxine in the stomach until she was squealing with laughter. Once she calmed down, Vanessa leaned over and gave Maxine a big smooch on both cheeks, like the French _la bise_ , and left bright red lipstick marks on her face. Maxine laughed again and Vanessa beamed. 

“Your laugh is the sweetest sound in the world,” Vanessa sighed contentedly. “You make us so happy, Maxine. We love you so much.” 

“I love you so much too,” Maxine whispered. Then she slid off her mother’s lap to run upstairs to her room. 

This year, in kindergarten, October 8th still felt like summer. The trees glowed with their emerald leaves, and one corner of the playground had a shady nook behind some shrubs that smelled of cool dirt and leaves and was fairly quiet. Just like everyday, Maxine shoved her brown bag lunch (one ham and cheese sandwich, half an apple, a mini water bottle because her mother never let her drink soda or even too much apple juice, and one little Hershey kiss) into her bright orange backpack (which she hated), redid the straps of her Mary Janes over pristine white socks (which she hated even more), rolled up the legs of her purple cotton pants (which she liked), and the sleeves of her pink long sleeve shirt, which had a skull and crossbones with a purple striped bandana (she loved that one, especially the color, because it was a cool “girls shirt.”). Then she waddled with her bulky backpack to the bushes. When Mrs. Clover’s back was turned, she slipped inside, as quick and quiet as a ninja cat. 

Safe from the world in her little corner, Maxine rummaged through her backpack. She took everything out: two new notebooks, her pencil case, her brand new disposable camera given to her as her 6th birthday present from her parents. So far she’d taken pictures of: the flowers outside. The tree outside. Her gold doubloon. Her pirate toys. And her breakfast pancakes with syrup and butter. 

She continued sorting: a pack of crayons. A tiny sketchbook. A copy of _Junie B. Jones and Some Sneaky Peeky Spying_ (“That one better not give her any ideas…” her mother had warned her father), her lunch, and her pirate toy. Towards the bottom, she uncovered her plunder: her most bent gold doubloon, which was really just the retaped gold foil wrapper of a chocolate coin, her blue refrigerator magnet with a skull and crossbones on it, and her trusty eyepatch that her mother had sown from scraps of black fabric. She rubbed the patch between her fingers comfortingly, leaving it off her face. She didn’t even know how to tie her shoes yet, but she wanted to hurry up and learn so she could start wearing sneakers and stomp in the mud at the playground. Or even better-- black Converse, with skulls on them. 

For a few moments, she heard light rustling from the breeze and the distant shouts and laughter of her classmates. She sighed wistfully, sitting up, but that made the top of her head visible. 

“Whoa, hey!” A voice called. Despite it sounding young, female, and friendly, Maxine froze. There was the unmistakable sounds of footsteps, walking slowly towards her secret corner. She glanced up, but she couldn’t climb the tree. But she couldn’t just run out either. Where would she go? To Mrs. Clover? To hide in the playground? To try and blend in with the girls eating lunch on the blacktop? 

“Uh, hello? Yoo-hoo? Anyone back here? Helloooooo?”


	2. Chloe (part 1)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the next chapter! This is where the dialogue got really fun, and I kind of got carried away with their little kid conversation :) By the way, the stories based on Bluebeard and Long John Silver are the real ones, I didn't just make those up.

_Nope! Nobody’s here! Go away please!_ Maxine thought to herself, flattening herself on the grass on her stomach. She tried to keep from shaking and clutched the eyepatch in her fist, breathing as quietly as she could. 

The rustling stopped. Maxine sighed with relief, but the girl heard and went, “Hmmm…” The things Maxine would give for the power to reverse time right now and stay down and silent the first time... 

Then, “Wow, I didn’t know there was room back here. Hi!” Maxine couldn’t help herself and yelped like a scared puppy as the bush branches parted. But the girl who emerged looked… almost friendly. Even though she was _so_ tall, with long, skinny arms and legs, she had bright blue eyes like... robin’s eggs. Robin egg eyes. They instantly made Maxine feel more at ease. 

The girl brushed a wisp of tangled blonde hair from her face. Maxine almost smiled! She was the coolest kid Maxine had ever seen-- fitted blue jeans, a light orange t-shirt with a pirate flag, which made Maxine’s heart speed up-- _Ba-boom! Ba-boom!_ She also had the prettiest sky-blue, but bulkiest, backpack Maxine had ever seen on a kid, with a dizzying number of compartments. Best of all, she was wearing black Converse, complete with skulls drawn on the toes in red Sharpie. 

The girl was surprised, but then her face broke into a huge, huge smile. Maxine felt this _whoosh_ of butterflies in her tummy, probably with sky-blue wings like the girl’s backpack, and those eyes... it was the same feeling when she missed a step on the stairs, or when a movie was about to start. 

The girl’s smile felt like home. 

“Hi,” the girl repeated, and Maxine smiled for real at her voice-- it was bright and cheery, like a glass of pulp-free orange juice on Saturday morning, a little raspy at the very edge, but very very sweet. 

“Hello,” Maxine replied, and for once it wasn’t a whisper! She could hardly believe it. The girl grinned this time and Maxine felt herself grinning back. Who was this kid? But then she realized that the girl had seen Maxine’s treasures. She pointed at a grassy spot, as if asking to sit down with her eyes, and Maxine nodded and patted the spot. 

“Hey… you like pirates too?” the girl asked, settling down with her backpack still on. She shrugged it off now and pushed it in front of the bush. “Here. This’ll make it harder to see us.” 

“Th-thanks. Mmm, y-yeah, I love pirates,” Maxine stammered. She was suddenly nervous, the butterflies beating their wings against her tummy. But not nervous like she was about to take a test, more like she felt that she just had to impress this girl. But at the same time, she felt like this girl already believed she was cool, because she also liked pirates. Maxine knew she liked her already. 

“Cool! So do I!” Mystery Pirate Girl exclaimed, then stammered herself, “O-oh, but I just said that. Heh. Hey, do you have a pirate name?” 

Maxine paused, considering. Then she said quietly, “I do. But I sail alone.” 

“Oh,” the girl said quietly, and she sounded almost disappointed. “Um, okay. Sorry, I’ll leave--” 

“No, I don’t sail alone because I want to,” Maxine interjected, sitting up, and let the words hang in the air. The girl turned back, a sympathetic look in her eyes. It made Maxine’s heart twist. 

“Well, my pirate name is Bluebeard.” 

“Bluebeard? You play as a boy?” 

“No, I just have a beard, I guess. You wanna hear about her original story?” 

“Is it scary?” Maxine asked, her voice much quieter. 

“Scary’s fun! I love scary movies,” the girl exclaimed. 

“Mm, I don’t--” Maxine began to say, but the girl cut her off and continued, “I’m Bluebeard, _yarrr!_ I’m so dastardly I _murdered_ my wives! I’m a wealthy noblewoman and frighteningly ugly!" 

"Stop!" Maxine squeaked, but the girl continued with a devilish grin, "And in my magnificent castle, there’s a secret underground chamber… with the bodies of my dead wives!” 

Maxine was impressed by her big words like “dastardly” and “murder” and “wealthy” and “noblewoman” and “frighteningly” and “magnificent” and even “chamber.” But she heard “dead,” and realized that “murder” meant “kill.” She _killed_ her wives and _hid_ them underground to rot and smell! 

Maxine suddenly shrieked, startling even the girl. A moment later she was cowering in the grass, scooting away from the girl, hands over her eyes. 

“Hey! Hey, are you okay?” The girl asked, her eyes wide. 

“STOP!” Maxine yelled incoherently. “STOP STOP STOP!” 

The girl looked frightened. “Do you want me to leave? Should I get your teacher? Who is it? Here, I’ll just go--” 

Maxine managed a loud, “N-NO! NO TEACHER!” But there it was-- the waterworks. She took shaky, hiccuping breaths, fat tears oozing out of her eyes and past her cheeks. Then she was sobbing rapidly and shallowly. 

“I told you to stop!” Maxine sobbed. “I hate scary stuff! I hate it I hate it!” 

“Oh no, oh no no, I’m so sorry! Do you want a hug?” The girl asked, and as soon as Maxine managed an “Ok--” she felt her skinny arms around her. And… they felt warm, secure and safe. It was like being back in her mother’s lap again, and within minutes her breathing had leveled out. That’s when she felt a wetness on her temple, and she looked up and the girl’s face was damp with tears. 

The girl gave a low moan of guilt, mumbling over and over, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I know I’m a big fat meanie for that, I’m so sorry.” 

“Why are _you_ crying?” Maxine asked, her voice cracking. 

The girl wiped her face, sniffling but managing a watery smile. “I feel so bad. And we don’t even know each other’s names yet! And you seem to be that kind of person. Like when you laugh, others do too. And when you cry you make others cry because they feel so bad their hearts crack into a million pieces!” She was still hugging her, and Maxine decided to scoot a little closer until she was burrowed in the girl’s arms and nestled into her chest. The girl rested her chin on the top of Maxine’s head and rocked Maxine in her arms until she sighed contentedly, almost sleepy. She scooted out of the hug and smiled. 

“Thank you. Your hugs are amazing.” 

“You’re welcome and I’m still sorry for scaring you.” 

“It’s okay.” 

“Thank you too. I learned how to give great hugs from my dad. And I’m sorry for scaring you.” 

“It’s okay. Your dad? But your dad seems so scary and mean! _Why_ would he tell you _that_ story?” Maxine asked, the last of her tears now dry. 

“‘Cause he’s cool. He knows I love scary stuff. And he thinks I can handle it, unlike my lame-o mom. And I’m sorry for scaring you.” 

“It’s okay. But don’t call your mommy lame-o, that’s mean.” 

“Okay. I won’t. That was mean, you’re right. Sorry for calling my mommy lame-o and I’m sorry for scaring you.” 

“It’s okay and it’s okay too.” 

“I am really sorry about scaring you.” 

“It’s really okay.” 

“What’s your favorite food? And did you know that I’m sorry for scaring you?” 

This time, Maxine burst into giggles. “You can stop saying sorry, I already said it’s okay a million times.” 

“Okay. Sorry for saying sorry,” the girl said. Maxine eyed her and the girl grinned. 

“That was a little joke. It’s okay, you can laugh,” she said. 

“Oh. Sorry for not laughing,” Maxine said, and they both snickered. 

“Hmmm… my favorite food?” Maxine continued. “I dunno, lobster roll? My mommy doesn’t really let me have candy. Or chocolate. Or soda… or too much apple juice, or cake, or pie, or--” 

“That sounds awful. Oh, I’m sorry for saying that. I meant to say, that sounds tough, but you must be used to it. Why can’t you have sugar? Is your mommy afraid of you gaining too much weight?” 

“That’s okay. No, she says my weight is fine as long as I'm healthy and comfortable with my body. The real reason is that she says she doesn't want me turning into a ‘hyperactive heathen with no teeth and type 2 diabetes--” she paused to take a breath, “‘--Whose brain rots from television and sugary cereal.’” 

“...What the heck does that mean?” 

“I don’t know! That’s just what my mommy said.” 

“Well, my favorite food is coffee ice cream. If that counts.” 

Maxine gasped. “Wow! But isn’t coffee for grownups?” 

“It’s not real coffee, just coffee flavor. But Mommy says real coffee isn’t nearly as sweet unless you add a ton of sugar. It doesn’t taste as good as it smells.” 

“Awww, man!” 

“Yeah, I know! But I think of myself as very grown-up for liking such a distinguished ice cream flavor.” 

Maxine assumed distinguished meant “fancy” or something. The girl continued, “One more apology: sorry about scaring you when I found you here. I know this is supposed to be a secret place, so I hope I’m not intruding.” 

“In--chrooding?” Maxine asked. 

“Intruding. It was on this week’s spelling words. It means ‘being somewhere I shouldn’t be.’” 

“Wow! Wait, how old are you? I just turned six, on September 21st. I’m in all-day kindergarten with Mrs. Clover.” 

“Kindergarten?! But you’re so quiet and calm! I’ve never met a six-year-old who can even _talk_ to me for this long. I’m seven and a half and in second grade already. I think I’m a year and a half older than you; my birthday is March 11th, 1994.” 

Maxine counted the months between September and March on her fingers. “You’re right! Wow, how’d you figure that out so fast?” 

The girl shrugged and giggled, “Mommy says I’m good at math. And my teacher says so too. I don’t wanna brag but… I got a 94 on my last test. We were adding two digits with carrying over.” 

“Wow. That’s really good. Nice job.” What was carrying over? Maxine could barely add and subtract one digit numbers! Her head spun a little thinking about how hard two digits would be, so she decided to change the subject and said, “You said you were intruding? My mommy calls me nosey sometimes. I think that’s the same thing,” Maxine said, then giggled. “Hey, we’re both--” 

“Intruders! Yeah, I guess we are. Let me get even more nosey then: I know your age and favorite food, but what’s your name?” 

Maxine opened her mouth, but then Maxine the Pirate took over. She grinned mischievously and hummed, “Hmm… well, you scared me when you came here. So I’m not gonna tell you!” 

“What?! Aw, come on!” 

“Here’s a little game: I’m just gonna spell it instead. If you can get my name right, I’ll let you stay here. And you can test me too.” 

“Well then, bring it on!” 

Oh boy, she was _competitive!_ She would be the best player 2 in _Mario Kart 64_! Maxine grinned, then said deviously, “My name is spelled M-A-X-I-N-E. What is it?” 

Mystery Pirate Girl thought for a moment, her lips moving silently. Then she grinned and yelled proudly, “Maxine! That’s a really pretty name.” 

Maxine’s eyes widened. The butterfly wings fluttered in her tummy. “Really? I always hated it. It sounds so frilly and girly. I wish I had a cool nickname.” 

The girl grinned again. “Well then, hey there, Max.” 

Maxine froze. Then she gazed up at the girl, a slow smile spreading across her face as she breathed, “Whoa. You’re amazing! That… that sounds a gazillion times cooler. Max. Hey, I’m Max. My name’s Max Caulfield!” 

“Thanks. It’s a gift,” the girl beamed. “Okay. My turn now: C-H-L-O-E E-L-I-Z-A-B-E-T-H P-R-I-C-E. What’s my name?” 

Maxine’s-- _Max’s_ \-- head spun even more. “...What?! How do you say that?” 

“I can’t tell you! That’s the game, silly!” 

Max knew her cheeks were bright red with embarrassment, and she scowled and protested, “You didn’t tell me your name was so long! Um… Ch-lah...? Chlaw...elzzzbeth...priss? Chlawelzabethpriss?” She attempted, pronouncing the “ch” the same as in “chocolate.” 

The girl burst into giggles. “No, no no, the second part is my middle name and the _third_ part is my _last_ name.” 

“No fair! The game was my idea and it was first names only!” Max pouted. 

“Since when did you say it was first names only?” The blonde girl asked, with a mischievous grin. Man, she was _sneaky_ too! 

Max continued, “You were supposed to just know it was first names only! Besides, Maxine is way easier to figure out than… that!” 

“Here, I’ll repeat it: My first name is just Ch-- uh, it’s spelled C-H-L-O-E.” 

“Aha!” Max cried, pointing. “So the C-H is like in ‘cat!’ Wait, Claw? What kind of a name is Claw? Sounds like a cat’s name.” 

“You’re right! That does sound so weird!” The girl replied with a giggle. “I do have a cat, but his name’s Bongo. My dad got him as a rescue.” 

Max’s eyes went as wide as saucers. “Man, you have a cat too?! I just have a dumbo parakeet named Feathers that I pretend is my parrot. And she’s probably gonna be dead soon.” 

“Bongo can be a little terror sometimes, but he’s great. I love the little fluff ball,” Chloe sighed. 

“Aha!” Max suddenly shouted again, leaping to her feet. 

“What?” 

“You finally got a word wrong! You called Bongo a little _tear_ like a rip in paper, but the word is ‘terrible.’” 

“No, I meant _terror_. It’s a noun, um, like, a _thing_. A scary thing, usually, but in this case I mean he can be a big rascal. Aw, fudge. Um, rascal means he gets in trouble a lot. And hey, Max, it’s not a competition to see who knows the biggest words, y’know? That was, um, kinda mean. No offense.” 

Max deflated and sat back down. Things had been going so well, and now she was mad? Making friends was even harder than she thought! 

“I’m really, really sorry. I won’t do it again. It’s just-- you know so many big words, and I get kind of mad sometimes. Can you just tell me your name now? I give up trying to figure it out. I’m not smart enough,” Max sighed, now feeling miserable. 

The girl’s brow creased in sympathy and concern, but she replied, “Okay fine, I’ll tell you my complicated name. Hi there Max, my name’s Chloe! And my middle name is Elizabeth and my last name is Price. So I’m Chloe Elizabeth Price, fully.” 

Instantly, Max was spellbound. In almost a whisper, she repeated, “Chloe Elizabeth Price. Chloe Elizabeth… Chloe, Chloe, _Chloe._ Wow.” 

Max looked up, mouth agape. “That’s the prettiest name I’ve ever heard in my life!” 

Chloe perked up, her bruised feelings instantly healed. “Really? You mean it? You’re not mad at me for doing my whole name?” 

“Not anymore! I mean it one million percent!” Max declared, which was the biggest number she knew. It was so big she didn’t even know how to count to it yet. Then she insisted it was actually one million gazillion _bajillion_ percent, which she was pretty sure _was_ the actual biggest number in the whole world. 

Max admitted, “Well, actually, I was gonna call you a ‘cheater cheater pumpkin eater’ before, sorry. I think cheaters should be thrown in bad kid jail with all the other bad kids. But your name is too pretty, so you get a pass.” 

Chloe’s beautiful robin egg eyes widened. “Wow! That’s… that’s actually really sweet of you, Max. I always thought my name was just okay. It’s French, actually. Maybe that’s why it looked so weird to you at first. And I _am_ a pumpkin eater! Pumpkin pie is-- well actually, I love all pies.” 

“Me too!” Max chirped with a grin. Max realized she actually loved how the “Ch” was pronounced like the C in “cat.” She loved how it blended into the L, the long O, and that the E wasn’t silent and useless like in her frilly name. She loved how that blended into the long E of “Elizabeth,” the Z, and the softness of “Beth.” She decided that “Elizabeth” was her second favorite name now, right after “Chloe.” And her last name: Price. So short, so sweet, so cool, even. She loved how Chloe’s name felt like a silk ribbon against her cheek, each vowel blending into the next consonant: Chloe Elizabeth Price. Maxine Caulfield sounded so… bad, in comparison. But Max Caulfield was comparable, cool on its own. She beamed. 

“Hey, you wanna hear a pirate joke?” Chloe asked. 

Max looked up. Chloe was grinning expectantly. “Sure!” Max cried. 

“Okay!” Chloe exclaimed. She put on her best pirate voice and growled, “ _Arrgh!_ What d’ye call a pirate with two eyes and two legs?” 

“What?” 

“A rookie!” 

Max giggled. “Because an experienced pirate has only one of each! What would you lose your first leg to, Chloe? And your first eye?” 

Chloe paused, thinking with her finger on her chin. “Y’know, I haven’t thought much about that at all. Have you?” 

“Yeah! I write pirate stories all the time. Maxine the Pirate lost an eye and a leg to a mega… shark attack! AHHHH!” Max flailed her arms. 

“You write stories? That’s so cool! I draw comics sometimes, but my stories are terrible.” 

“We’d make a good team. I write and you draw,” Max grinned. 

“We could do both,” Chloe pointed out, and Max said, “Deal.” They shook on it. Max’s tummy tingled, feeling Chloe’s hand grasp hers firmly. Was it _always_ gonna be like this? 

“Now let’s give you your new pirate name!” Chloe suddenly announced. “Hm… how about… Long Max Silver?” 

Max gasped again. What was this sorcery that allowed Chloe to have and think of the best names? 

“That sounds amazing!” Max cried. “There was a pirate named Max?! Does Long Max Silver have a story too?” 

“He does! But his original name was Long John Silver. But you fit his image perfectly! You already have one leg and one eye and an eyepatch! And your parakeet can be his parrot friend Captain Flint!” 

“Wait, Long John Silver! From _Treasure Island_!” 

“You like that book too? My dad read it to me last month! But I think he changed a lot of the violent parts. He said that Long John Silver lost his leg to a broken cheese grater off the high seas.” 

“Oh, well, I don’t know about that. I never read it, just looked at the pictures.” 

“I bet your dad can read some of it when you’re seven and a half like me. But Long John Silver is actually a bad guy. Are you sure you still want his name?” 

“He can’t be as bad as Bluebeard who killed her _wives_ ,” Max said miserably. “But Long Max Silver’s nice, right? She-- I didn’t kill anyone? 

“Not if you don’t want her to be mean. It’s Long Max Silver now! You can be a pirate of plunder and peace!” Chloe cried. 

“And still be scary! _YARRR!_ ” Max exclaimed. “That sounds awesome! But if you married me and I became your wife, you wouldn’t murder me, right? You’d be nice to me? 

Chloe looked extremely solemn as she replied, “No, I wouldn’t murder you. But not because I’m nice, because Bluebeard’s not nice. It’s because you’re so strong I _know_ I’d never be stupid enough to try and murder you. Here, pinky promise that we won’t kill each other. Ever. No guns, no knives, no throwing each other into a storm.” 

Max pressed her lips together and locked pinkies with Chloe, the tingles in her stomach turning into a happy buzz. They sat back and fell silent, listening to the wind in the tree branches.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did you catch the reference to the Bae ending? :))))))) Thank you for reading!


	3. Chloe (part 2)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so it was fun for me to write out Max's vocabulary and how she had trouble pronouncing bigger words :) I also tried to include logic that only kids have like "Well, I'm already seven and a half, so I'm wayyy older and wiser than you!" Also, Max's desire for black Converse with skulls to wear in high school is because of her character design in season 1, where she wears… knock off Converse with cute embroidered skulls!

Max’s gaze lingered on Chloe’s shoes. “I always wanted Converse,” she said quietly.

“Really?”

“Yeah. Black Converse with skulls just like yours. I’ll wear them the whole time in high school. They’d be the coolest shoes ever.”

”Max scrunched up her nose and bared her baby teeth. “Now I’m mad at you for your Converse. I’m sorry, Chloe. I hate being mad at the whole wide world. I don’t wanna be anymore.”

“Why? What d’you mean ‘mad?’” Chloe asked softly.

“It’s just--” Max sighed. “Because… because they can talk so easy.”

“Who?”

This time Max really felt a burst of annoyance. “Darn it Chloe, _everyone!_ The grownups! The kids at school! They can talk _so_ easy to other people. And I can’t! And I’m mad at you because you can too! And you have cool shoes!”

“Are you sure you’re mad? What if you’re jealous of them?” Chloe asked.

“What? What’s jealous?”

“When you want something somebody has but you don’t, and you feel all ugly inside towards them. Isn’t that how you feel right now?” Chloe asked gently.

Max paused, then nodded miserably.

Chloe had a gentle smile as she said, “Aww, Max. You thought you were mad at the whole world all this time! Why are you jealous of them, Max?”

Max felt a little _zing!_ In her tummy again when Chloe used her new nickname. It sounded _awesome,_ even if she was still upset.

“I just told you; they can talk so easy,” Max muttered.

“No, I mean, why do you need to be jealous of them when you’re amazing just the way you are?”

Max gazed up at Chloe with an unsure look, before asking softly, “You really mean that? You’re not just saying because y-- well, you’re actually not my mom, so--”

“Yes, of course I do,” Chloe giggled. “And not because I’m-- _not_ \-- your mom. I’ve known you for less than a day and you’re already the coolest kindergartner I’ve ever met. So I’ll let you in on a secret: my Converse aren’t actually the real ones.”

Max glanced up, Chloe was picking at the grass, the other hand nervously tapping her knee. She sighed, “They’re cheaper. From the outlet mall. Because my family can’t afford real Converse.”

“That’s okay.”

This time Chloe was surprised. “Really? But… the kids like to make fun of me for my clothes… because they’re not that expensive. These jeans and this shirt are from a garage sale.”

“That’s silly. _Candy’s_ not expensive and nobody makes fun of people for buying candy,” Max pointed out.

Chloe smiled. “I love the way you think, Max. Thank you.”

Max smiled back. “Now, can you tell me another joke?”

“Sure. Ummm, let’s see. Oh! What happened when Bluebeard fell overboard in the Red Sea?”

“Bluebeard! Hm… I dunno, what?

“She got _marooned._ ”

“What’s maroon?” Max asked.

“A color. It’s like a reddish-purplish-brownish,” Chloe explained. “But it also means to abandon someone. I learned that from the dictionary.”

Maxine’s face fell, imagining it. “That’s so sad. I’d never want you to fall into the sea. Or be left alone.”

Chloe smiled. “Thanks Max. I’d never want you to fall into the sea or be left alone either.”

“What if there’s a big storm?” Max suddenly asked, looking back up at Chloe with wide eyes. “Like what if, exactly twelve years from now when I’m a big 18-year-old, there’s a giant tornado, right on the water by Arcadia Bay? What then?”

“Wow, when you’re 18 I’ll already be 19 and a half! We’d be grownups! You and me would be _so_ smart by then, we could handle it no problem.”

“But what if we _couldn’t?_ ” Max asked, almost desperately.

“Then… we’d go to shore. You know that big lighthouse by the beach? We’d go there, and we’d always be safe. I already marked the spot on the map where I wanna put my pirate fort someday. We could always go there too in case of emergency,” Chloe explained.

“I’ve never been to the lighthouse,” Max admitted. “I get too tired to walk up there, and my dad gets too tired to carry me, even though I’m only 37 pounds. My dad’s a big dumpling,” she smiled then.

Chloe smiled back and replied, “I’ve been up there. I’ve hiked there. That means walking up a mountain. With my dad. I’ve done it two times already.”

“Wow.”

“Yeah, I get really tired but the view is _beautiful, especially_ from the top of the lighthouse during the sunset.”

Max smiled slowly, then she turned to Chloe. “Wanna hear a pirate joke I just invented?”

“Go ahead!”

“What does the pirate mommy say to her pirate son when he does a bad thing?”

Chloe pointed as she said, “Oh, I know! ‘ _Arrrgh_ , yer gonna walk the plank!’”

Max could barely keep her laughter in her cheeks. Her face was all pink and she shook her head silently.

Even Chloe was about to laugh. “Okay, what is it?”

Unable to contain her laughter, she sputtered, “‘Your booty’s in trouble now! I’m gonna kick it!’ Like kicking someone’s _butt!_ ”

They both burst into uncontrollable giggles, laughing so hard that Max’s face hurt and Chloe fell onto her side clutching her stomach. But amid her guffaws, Max’s stomach also hurt from the overwhelming butterflies. She got Chloe to laugh again!

“You’re the queen of jokes!” Chloe laughed, and Max felt another flutter in her tummy.

Finally, Chloe heaved a tremendous sigh, wiping her eyes. “Okay, okay, my turn now. There’s one more I know but it’s not as funny: How do pirates know that they are pirates?”

“How?” Max asked.

“They think, therefore they _ARRRR!!!!!_ ” Chloe yelled. Max laughed, but at Chloe’s pirate voice, not at the joke.

“Is that a quote? Who’s that from?” Max asked.

“This French philosopher called René Descartes. My dad told me,” Chloe explained.

Max’s eyebrows knit together. “What’s a phil-saurus? A type of dinosaur?”

“ _Philosopher!_ ” Chloe giggled. Max grinned sheepishly, but she was still all aflutter that she got Chloe to laugh again.

Chloe continued, “Um, I think they’re people whose jobs are to think all day. It sounds sooooo boring though. Like being a secretary.”

“Like I said, you know so many big words, Chloe,” Max sighed. Her stomach lurched again, saying that beautiful, perfect name.

“What’s a-- what’s that?” Normally she’d never be asking this many questions. She was nosey with her eyes, not her mouth. But with Chloe, she wanted to hang onto every word she said.

Chloe smiled sweetly at Max, pleased with her one-girl audience who was so impressed by her genius. “A secretary? They’re someone who… helps people. As their job.”

“That doesn’t sound so boring,” Max argued. “I love to help people. I help my mommy by fixing the pillows on the sofa and carrying the dishes to the sink one at a time so I don’t break them and sometimes I even get the mail all by myself!”

Chloe shook her head. “No, it’s helping in the boring-est way. Like answering the phone for someone, putting all those adult papers in the right place, making meetings…”

“That’s still helping,” Max paused, then asked, “Would you be my secker-tary, Chloe? I could pay you in candy bars and whatever drawings you want. I hate answering the phone. It’s the scariest thing in the whole wide world.”

“No it’s not. You’re just talking to someone without seeing them.”

“That’s why it’s scary!” Max protested, arms crossed indignantly. “What if you say a bad thing and they can’t see how sorry you are in your eyes? Or what if you don’t know _what_ to say? That’s even worser! Then they’re just standing there! They’re just standing there, in their kitchen, and they stare at their refrigerator and they think, ‘Wow, this girl is so stupid! She doesn't know what to say! She’s wasting my ti---”

“Max.”

“What?” Max snapped, then instantly regretted it when she saw Chloe’s sincerity in those robin-egg eyes.

“You’re not stupid.”

Max scoffed then, even rolling her eyes. “Yeah I am! I can’t add two digits or count to a thousand yet or even tie my shoes---”

“That doesn’t make you stupid. Stupid is if you called someone a-- a--” Chloe suddenly smiled as her voice dropped to a whisper: “ _Poopy-head._ ”

“That’s not stupid, that’s just mean,” Max said, but giggled.

“Mean people are stupid people to me,” Chloe insisted, but was also grinning.

“But you’re still so much smarter than me! You know Ren-ay Decker!” Max argued. “You know what a-- a-- ‘filler-suffer’ and ‘secker-tary’ is! You can _say_ all those big words and I bet you can _spell_ them too!”

“Yeah well, I’m seven and a half already. And you just turned six,” Chloe replied simply with a shrug. “We’re learning subtraction with borrowing this week. And in science, I’m learning about the stages of the moon. Actually, they’re called _phases._ Did you know that?

Feeling her cheeks heat up, Max mumbled, “No. I didn’t know that.”

“And that’s okay!”

Max looked up, and saw Chloe wearing a gentle, patient smile. Her blue eyes-- so blue, so pretty-- were open and inviting.

“I was like you, Max. I thought just because I hadn’t learned something yet that someone else my age did, or if I didn’t understand something right away, it meant I was stupid. But then my mommy explained to me, ‘if you knew everything and could learn everything else without a teacher, why would you be in school?’ She knows because she didn’t go to college, she’s a waitress at the Two Whales Diner. And she always talks about how ‘valuable a good education is.’ That’s why my parents want me to go to college so bad.”

Max wanted to ask what a college was, but she held her tongue, which wasn’t that hard with her shy mouth and outstanding listening ears.

“We’re at school to learn,” Chloe continued. “And learning’s so fun! Like today, you learned my name! And you learned how to spell it! And that it’s French! And today I learned your name, and that you like ice cream like me, and you have a parakeet named Feathers but now nicknamed Captain Flint. And, most importantly, I learned that you’re super nice and super cool too.”

“I’ve never been called cool before,” Max whispered.

“Well, you’re very cool, Max. And since you’re so cool-- and easy to talk to-- I’m gonna tell you another secret: in first grade we were in science, and we just started learning about gravity-- it’s this invisible force on Earth that keeps everything on the ground, and why we can’t float. You’ll learn more about it next year. And the teacher asked, ‘Does anyone know what this force is called?’ And I was so sure I knew, my hand _flew_ in the air, and I yelled out ‘It’s called _hammerspace!_ ’ Because you know, space, and hammers are heavy? And then the class started _laughing_ at me! I felt _so_ stupid. And my teacher just said, ‘No, it’s called _gravity._ ’”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. You see?”

“Oh. Wow Chloe, that’s awful. I’m sorry.”

“It’s really okay. The teacher made my classmates apologize. And it’s not as bad as Stephanie Kowalski saying that nine minus seven is _four._ ”

Max smiled and didn’t even feel bad that time. “That’s just silly. It’s two.”

“See, you knew that too! You’re not stupid, Stephanie Kowalski is.”

Max giggled before exhaling through her nose, then finally said, “It’s too bad we can’t float, though.”

“Yeah, it sucks. Gravity comes from inside the Earth, so the closer you are to the ground the stronger it is.”

Max pursed her lips, thinking hard. “I bet floating would be fun-- wait. Wait, is that why the astronauts could go _boing_ and bounce on the moon? Because it was in outer space, super duper far away from the Earth?”

Chloe’s face lit up. “Yes! Yes yes yes! See, Max, you figured it out all by yourself!”

Max’s heart raced as she gasped. She did! She could be smart! Just then, Chloe grinned and raised her hand. “Up top!”

Max glanced around, blinking, then asked in her best teacher voice, “Yes, Chloe?”

“What?”

“You’re raising your hand. Are we playing pretend school at school? Am I the teacher?”

“What? No, no, Max, this is a high five. Wait, you’ve never heard of a high five? Your parents, _no one’s_ ever high fived you?”

“Mmm, I don’t think my mommy would do that. Is it a thing that friends do? Because um, um, I wouldn’t really know about that then.”

Chloe’s face crumpled. She looked so devastated.

“Oh, Max. I’m sorry. Here, this’ll be fun. A high five’s when something super duper duper duper spectacular-wow happens, and you slam your hands together like this!” She clapped her own hands together to demonstrate. “See? Five fingers connected.”

“Ooh. Doesn’t that hurt?” Max asked.

“Only if you slam too hard. And my dad taught me a trick: if you look at the person’s elbow, it’s easier to not miss.”

“How?”

“I dunno that one, actually. See, I don’t know everything. But come on, let’s high five for how smart you really are!”

Max squinted at Chloe’s elbow, which was pale and knobby, except for a corner of a reddened scrape that was just visible and had a Spongebob band-aid on it. Max’s lips pressed together as a low _“hmmm”_ of concentration rumbled deep in her throat. She’d just been called cool. Now she had to prove it with her perfect first high five. She pushed her arm forward.

 _Slap!_ Their hands connected beautifully, their entire palms and all five fingers touching.

“Whoo! Nice job, Super Max! Let’s do it again,” Chloe exclaimed. They did, and it was another perfect high-five.

“Hey, I bet that’s a sign,” Max said.

“Of what?” Chloe asked.

“Perfect high fives. Our hands are built for each other. Do you think that means we’ll be friends?”

Chloe looked quizzically at her, then grinned. “Aren’t we already friends?”

Max locked eyes with Chloe, then smiled back. “Yeah. We are.”

Just then, they heard rustling. Max didn’t freeze this time, she looked expectantly. Then Mrs. Clover peeked over the bushes.

“Oh, goodness, there you are! Maxine, recess is over! Everyone’s already been inside for ten minutes; you’re missing silent reading!”

“It’s Max.”

“What was that, dear?”

“Can you call me Max from now on? It’s my brand new nickname.”

“Oh, well sure, Max. What a cool nickname! And who’s this?”

Normally, Max would’ve kept quiet, allowing the other person to introduce themselves. But now she was Long Max Silver, who had Captain Flint and her possible new wife-who-wouldn’t-kill-her (and she would never kill her either) Captain Bluebeard to keep her safe, strong, and dastardly on the high seas, now no longer sailing alone. Never again would she sail alone.

“This is Chloe Elizabeth Price,” Max announced. “My new best friend.”

She put her arm around Chloe, the girl with the most beautiful French name who was seven and a half years old and wore fake Converse but that was okay and had a sky-blue backpack and robin egg eyes and knew words like “dastardly” and “rascal” and already knew how to add double digits and carry them over and had a distinguished taste for coffee ice cream and was Max’s first, incredible, amazing, brilliantly smart _friend._

Mrs. Clover’s eyes widened as she took in the much taller blonde girl with the pirate shirt, but then softened into a gentle, but overjoyed smile. “Oh, Max, that is so wonderful. Who knew hiding back here would attract another girl who loved pirates too, hmm?”

“Yeah, it’s pretty darn wonderful,” Chloe laughed.

Mrs. Clover held out her hand for Max to take. “Here, honey, let’s get inside.”

Max stood, smiling politely. “That’s okay. I can just follow you. Can I have one more minute so I can say bye-bye to Chloe? Please?”

Mrs. Clover looked like she was about to object, but then smiled and said, “Of course, honey.” She walked to the front door to wait.

As soon as Max had turned around, Chloe nearly knocked her down with a big hug.

“Farewell for now, Long Max Silver,” Chloe whispered fiercely. “How about tomorrow, same time, same place?”

Max hugged her back before replying, “Um, actually, can we sail the high seas tomorrow?” She nodded towards the playground.

Chloe grinned. “Perfect, matey. I’ll be seeing ye on the high seas.” Chloe turned to go, but Max was suddenly aware of her hollow stomach.

“Oh no! I didn’t even get to eat my lunch!” Max cried.

“Just a sec,” Chloe said immediately. She rummaged around in her backpack and pulled out… a king-sized Chock-O-Crisp!

“Ahoy! You’ve earned your plunder, for being such a great friend! Here. This’ll give you plenty of energy,” Chloe grinned.

“Whoa!!! These are my favorites! Thanks Captain Bluebeard!!!” Max cried, then grinned. “Sorry Mommy, but this is too good to pass up.”

Chloe glanced at the school building. “Alas, I must be departin’ now. _Arrrgh!_ Bye Max Caulfield! You better not forget me or my name tomorrow!”

“Bye, Chloe Elizabeth Price,” Max called, waving with a smile, as Chloe winked-- and disappeared.

Once alone, Max took a moment to whisper her beautiful, complicated, French name under her breath, like it was a flower petal, a piece of silk, a sweet, sweet secret:

“ _Chloe... Chloe, Chloe, Chloe, Chloe, Chloe_.” She knew she’d never get tired of it.

“You better not forget me or my name,” Chloe had said.

“ _Never,_ ” Max whispered giddily, and tore open the Chock-O-Crisp wrapper.

* * *

Max skipped home that afternoon, her backpack bouncing on her shoulders. She skipped up the front steps and into the house.

“Mommy! Mommy, I think I found my sweetest sound in the world!” Max called, scrambling up onto a kitchen chair for her afternoon snack of apple slices and water, which was just fine with her.

“Oh, you did? What’s that, Maxine?” Vanessa asked expectantly.

Max’s face broke into a huge dreamy grin. She wrapped her arms around herself and swayed back and forth with her eyes closed on her chair before answering, “Chloe Elizabeth Price’s laugh.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not take credit for these incredibly lame pirate puns (except the one joke that Max "invented," that was mine :)) The puns are from this link: https://www.rd.com/funny-stuff/pirate-jokes-pirate-puns/  
> Anybody catch the reference to Stephanie Kowalski, aka the bitch who would later steal Chloe's Yoo-Hoo in 5th grade? ;)  
> Thank you so much for reading! I have a Sean and Lyla (platonic) fic with multiple chapters in the works and the first chapter is up now if you would like to read it.

**Author's Note:**

> THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR YOUR PATIENCE AND FOR READING!


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